Broken
by Depopulating
Summary: .: true love is a fairy tale :. RikuSora .: for fullmetalguitar :.


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**BROKEN**

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He was always looking at me. Even out of the corner of his eye, he was always taking a glance at me, each time he passed the display window. Every morning, after the sunrise, he'd shuffle with his tiny six-year-old legs by the window, dressed in his cute khaki shorts and white collar uniform shirt. His blue tie was always put on incorrectly, if not just thrown around his neck. He would quickly walk in every other day before school and check up on things and say hello to his father, grabbing a quick soda or two from the mini refrigerator behind the counter.

But I loved every wrinkle, every stain on that boy's body—for I had no such imperfections. I hadn't moved for years, never living outside of the glass case, staring out that same window for years and years. Riku was so real. I was not. Every time he stared into my eyes, I felt those aquamarine orbs pierce through the porcelain and x-ray me with love that I had never received before.

And as the years passed, so did he. Every morning, half an hour later than he used to, he'd go by again, always caught up in some fourteen-year-old conversation with his friends about the latest games and weapons, not to forget their trading cards. But I didn't care, for once in a while he would quickly glance my way, those then innocent eyes meeting mine for a moment of pure happiness.

Had I had a heart, it would have burst. But I sometimes pondered on if I was in possession of such a complicated thing, for love would warm up inside me each time that silver-haired beauty passed by. Only true love can make one feel this way, I thought.

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**.x. dreaming comes so easily .x.**

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Riku then began working at the store only a couple years later, to "take the workload" off his father. He had grown tall, slender, and muscular—he even grew out his hair, making it look more like silk than ever. He would come in every afternoon to run the antique store (I had figured out after listening to a few conversations) while his father was out. Staring at the reflection on the window inches away from my face, I was always able to see what was happening behind me during those glorious few hours, melting every time Riku answered the store's phone with a voice that could make the glass around me and the stand I was placed on dissolve. 

If only.

But I would always looked forward to, since my love started working here, every year before the next one came round the corner—the day the store was dusted. He would open the case with the smallest silver key and reach in, carefully rubbing a white cloth against me (that was rather gray due to the previous dusting he had done before).

I thought I was hallucinating.

He licked his thumb and polished my cheek gently upon noticing a small smear—his hands were soft and warm against the solid and cold surface of my face. He then smiled down at me, the sun behind him silhouetting his body in a heavenly glow.

He loved me.

He really loved me, and I didn't even have to do a thing.

But as I attempted to move a limb, the truth sunk in once again—I couldn't move about. I was trapped in a single position next to dolls and old jewelry in a glass case, and I couldn't do anything about it.

And as Riku came in every afternoon following, he'd bring a visitor with him—a beautiful young girl, smiling and laughing so loudly that I wondered how he could not have been deaf. Her flawless auburn hair shined and her brilliant blue eyes made Riku grin each time he looked into them.

I hated every minute of it.

I hated every giggle, every word spoken between the two—I wanted it to stop.

But as Riku left the store with her at his arm each and every time, I began to worry. Had he waited too long for me to come around? Were the glances we shared nothing to him? Had he forgotten all about me, locked up in the clear box in front of the window? Would he come back the next day without her?

If only.

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**.x. because it's all that I've known .x.**

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They came back again and again, and she sat at the service counter for hours with him while he worked, talking on and on about things I didn't understand. She would greet every customer with a warm smile that was brighter than the sun's blaze and they couldn't help but do the same back. 

But that fire soon died down, and she was no longer there day after day.

She was quickly replaced by another girl, much prettier and a perfect blonde. She wasn't quite as shrill and much kinder than the other, her voice as soft as cashmere. She would do the same as the previous female, sitting at the counter for hours, reading him soothing poetry aloud as he scuffled around the store.

Of course, she faded away as soon as she came. Years passed on and Riku dated again and again, tearing my heart over and over. He was so selfish, shoving woman after woman in my face and he was entirely at ease by it. I began to secretly hate him inside, my insides burning for another reason—not love, but rage. He couldn't have forgotten me. I was always here for him, and he knew it.

And one afternoon he came into the store with his latest girl years later in the winter. I remember thinking harshly of him and the woman with her arms around his waist showing his aged father a band around the woman's finger.

And like that, he was gone.

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**.x. true love is a fairy tale .x.**

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Gone forever. 

I didn't see him any day after that, only his elderly father and the customers that slowly ceased to enter. The numbers decreased every day, and not much long after that, the old man closed down the store. He began taping newspaper over the windows, blocking me from the outside evermore.

He began to bring in boxes, _loads_ of cardboard boxes. He placed them all around the store, taking out the numerous items from all the cabinets and the cases around the store and set them carefully inside them.

That day then came—it was _my _turn to be taken away into the darkness, but as I expected the old man's hands to grab me off of my stand, it was found out to be someone else's—someone I hadn't seen for eternity.

I saw Riku again that day.

He was still as young as ever, staring down at me—an old, elegant porcelain doll—with my limp limps between his fingers. He smiled as he carefully placed me inside my own little box swarming in bubble wrap.

And as he closed slowly the box's top flaps, hiding me from the world little by little each time, his grin disappeared, his aquamarine eyes filled with grief as the darkness came upon me forever more.

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**.x. I'm damaged, so how would I know? .x.**

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**Author's Note: **This is a belated Christmas fic for fullmetalguitar, because this is the one story in a long time that hasn't ended in death. But we all know that I can't help but put _some _sort of sadness in the mix. Because that's how I _roll._

Love you, fullmetalguitar, and I wish you a happy holiday season!

**Because of some minor events, I was not able to complete all my stories on time. Those of you who I have written a fic for (and you may or may not know who you are), your present will be late. (This message will self descruct once all those stories are completed).**


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